


The Last Thing On My Mind

by virginiasoil



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Modern Royalty, Mutual Pining, Romance, Teacher Bellamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 16:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15667212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virginiasoil/pseuds/virginiasoil
Summary: In hindsight, yeah, it’s more than a little strange how it all goes down. One day he’s translating 2,000-year-old tablets recently unearthed in a largely forgotten ancient Roman territory and the next he’s considering a position teaching Latin to some diplomat’s kid in a largely forgotten European kingdom for more money a month than he’s ever had in his bank account at one time. Opportunities like that don’t just happen – not to people like him at least. Not to mention the fact he hadn’t been in academia long enough to be that well known of a scholar. So maybe he should have questioned it a bit more. Looking back, though, Bellamy is pretty damn glad he didn’t.---Clarke is the queen of a small European country. Bellamy is a Latin professor offered the position of tutoring Madi. They have a secret past. What could go wrong?Think Princess Diaries 2 meets Parent Trap meets The Prince and Me meets A Christmas Prince.





	The Last Thing On My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my head for a while, I hope you like it. For it to work let's all pretend:
> 
> 1) It is realistic in any way, shape or form.  
> 2) Bellamy would ever take a job like this.  
> 3) Bellamy wouldn't see a picture of the queen of Arkadia beforehand.  
> 4) See #1.

In hindsight, yeah, it’s more than a little strange how it all goes down. One day he’s translating 2,000-year-old tablets recently unearthed in a largely forgotten ancient Roman territory and the next he’s considering a position teaching Latin to some diplomat’s kid in a largely forgotten European kingdom for more money a month than he’s ever had in his bank account at one time. Opportunities like that don’t just happen – not to people like him at least. Not to mention the fact he hadn’t been in academia long enough to be that well known of a scholar. So maybe he should have questioned it a bit more. Looking back, though, Bellamy is pretty damn glad he didn’t.

\---

It happens like this. 

He’s sitting in his tiny, windowless office in the archeology department of The University of Virginia examining an ancient clay tablet that had seemed much more promising weeks ago when he dug it up in France. Now, though, it’s becoming clear that it’s little more than a store order that really tells Bellamy very little he didn’t already know about Gaul shortly after Caesar’s conquest. With a sigh, he takes off his reading glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. A bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degree in Latin and Classical history just so he could read ancient shopping lists. Great. 

It isn’t that Bellamy doesn’t find this cool – because of course it’s amazing he got to spend the summer in France digging up one of the first Roman settlements in northeastern Gaul and yeah it is pretty amazing he gets to be the first person to read this tablet in over 2,000 years and sure he had always been working towards a teaching position at a school like UVA. But, at 8:00pm on a Monday night after a day of dealing with uninterested undergraduate students and disappointing translations, it’s hard to be that excited about his job. 

Bellamy is startled out of his internal gripe session by his phone vibrating on the desk. Pushing aside his glasses and pages of handwritten translations, he grabs the device with feigned interest. 

**GMAIL**  
**Jaha, Wells**  
Inquiry on Teaching Position  
_Hello Dr. Blake, I provide counsel to a high-profile diplomat here in the monarchy of Arkadia and am reaching out to you today because of your noted acclaim within Classical academia._

Bellamy’s first reaction is a bemused scoff at the phrase “noted acclaim” being connected to his very young and relatively unknown career. Sure, he’s known as an up and coming star in Roman archeological circles and his translations (and opinions on their place in modern understandings of Roman politics) have garnered enough interest that he snagged a position as an adjunct at an acclaimed university – but one could hardly say Bellamy’s work has “noted acclaim.” Especially when he’s sitting in his office translating a fairly meaningless hunk of clay. 

Admittedly, though, the notification piques his curiosity. Half expecting it to be a scam, Bellamy unlocks his phone and opens the email in question. 

_Hello Dr. Blake,_

_I provide counsel to a high-profile diplomat here in the monarchy of Arkadia and am reaching out to you today because of your noted acclaim within Classical academia._

_My client is currently searching for a Classical tutor (Literature, Latin, and History) for their child and has entrusted me with the task of finding a suitable candidate. After conducting some research, you are on my short-list of possible tutors._

_If you are interested in the position, I would be happy to speak with you further regarding details, salary, and a timeline. My assistant, Roma, is copied on this email and can set up a time for us to speak._

_Naturally, I would appreciate that this offer is kept in the strictest confidence._

_Sincerely,  
Wells A. Jaha_

Bellamy simply stares at it for a long moment, rereading the short message a couple times as if that could help him decipher more. Before he can figure out how to respond, the screen morphs into a large picture of Miller to indicate his incoming call. Within minutes the email is forgotten over plans for a night out at their favorite dive bar in Charlottesville. 

\---

It isn’t until both Bellamy and Miller are both three beers in that he remembers the email. 

“I got the weirdest email today,” he says, eying the hockey game on TV. 

Miller turns on his stool, facing out away from the bar. The crowd’s pretty small but that isn’t a surprise. It’s a Monday night two weeks into the start of the semester. Students often didn’t start venturing too far off campus or downtown until at least a month in. Rather than respond, Miller just grunts, but Bellamy knows him well enough to understand the meaning. _Who cares?_

“Hold on, let me pull it up.” 

Miller lets out a sharp, quick bark of a laugh before turning back towards Bellamy. “Damn, man. We’ve gotten old. We’re really talking about weird emails now?” 

Bellamy shoots him a look. “I’m telling you it’s interesting weird – not just a boring email. Besides we are 29 now. I think we’re old enough to talk about emails.” 

Shaking his head, Miller scoffs. “Speak for yourself. I hope I’m never that lame,” he says with a smile. Despite feigning offense, Bellamy is simply grateful for Miller’s presence. It had been exciting enough to be offered a position at UVA after finally getting his doctorate at the school the year before – but Miller moving to the area had just been an added bonus. The two men went way back, having grown up in the less affluent neighborhoods of Richmond together. During sappier moments, Bellamy still feels a little overwhelmed at the lives they have built for themselves. Miller now owns his own construction company and is happily engaged to his college sweetheart, Bryan. Bellamy, now Dr. Blake, P.h.D., is teaching at one of the best universities in the country. Despite the change, the pair still prefer dive bars like the one they are in now to the ritzier spots downtown. Once a scrappy kid, always a scrappy kid and all that.

Bellamy slides his phone across the bar to Miller, the other man giving an over-exaggerated sigh before setting down his beer and reading. Miller’s brow furrows as he gets farther into the email. 

“Huh,” is Miller’s only response after he reads through the message. 

“Weird, right?” 

“It’s so vague. Have you looked this guy up?” 

Bellamy shakes his head. “You called right after I read it – I totally forgot about it until now. I’ve never heard of Arkadia though, have you?” 

Miller begins to shake his head before widening his eyes. “Oh! You know I think I have actually. Bryan was going on about it a while ago – like a few years ago I think. There was some drama with the king dying and then his daughter’s coronation? Bryan was real excited about the coronation shit, that’s how I know it. It’s some tiny country in Europe.”

“Is it really a monarchy? Do those still even exist?” 

“Hell, if I know. I really couldn’t tell you anything about it.” Miller takes another swig of his beer and hands Bellamy back his phone. “Look it up.” 

**The Kingdom of Arkadia**  
_The Kingdom of Arkadia is a small, but extremely wealthy, European country located near the south of France on the Mediterranean Sea. It is best known for its lucrative grape and wine industries, cultural sites, pristine coastline, and unique system of government. Though largely a republic now, the Arkadian monarch is still the head of the executive branch of government with vested executive power._

“What I don’t understand,” says Miller, pulling Bellamy away from the country’s Wikipedia page, “is why would some wealthy foreign diplomat wants you to be their kid’s tutor. No offense.”

Bellamy laughs, “I had the same thought. I’m definitely not well known enough for this kind of offer. It’s probably a scam.” 

Miller raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “Maybe, but I’m not sure what the scam would be – to get you to agree to a meeting? It’s probably legit; just really weird. Clearly this Wells guy is very confused. You’d make a terrible tutor to some rich diplomat’s kid.”

“Oh, really?” Bellamy teases indignantly. 

“I can see it now – you attempting to teach some over privileged brat Latin while railing against monarchies, capitalism, corporate greed, and gentrification. It’d go great, I’m sure. You’d produce a little radical. Their parents would be thrilled.” 

“I’d break the monarchy from the inside.”

Miller laughs, throwing an arm around Bellamy’s shoulder. “Exactly. I’d pay to see it happen.” 

\---

Bellamy looks over the email one more time while lying in bed. Could it be real? It just seems so out of the blue and weird. He didn’t even know this kind of thing happened – but then again, he never thought about how rich people educated their children. 

Suddenly a hand covers the phone’s screen as Echo pushes her way on top of him again. “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to check your phone when you’re with someone else?” 

He smirks as his hands find her hips. “Sorry I was being so negligent.” 

Echo leans down to kiss him, it’s a little too rough, just like her. When she pulls away he looks up at her for a moment, taking in her naked form and familiar eyes. Their rivalry in grad school had slowly morphed into whatever it was they were now, blossoming over their summer in France, but he still felt a little like he didn’t know her. Echo had always been a bit icy, though. 

“Hey, when we were in France do you remember hearing anything about this country called Arkadia?” 

Echo slips off him and onto her back, turning her face towards his. “Sure, it’s that little kingdom in the south. Why?”

He hands her his phone, still pulled up to the email. “I’ve been studying ancient Gaul for over a year, I can’t believe I hadn’t heard of it until today.”

Echo shrugs, handing him back his phone. “Well, it isn’t that important of a place. Are you taking the position?” 

Bellamy scoffs and shoots her a look. She smiles her tight little smile at him before rolling over and turning out the light. He reads back through the email one more time before doing the same. 

\---

In the end, he replies to it because of the damn tablet. He’s so frustrated with the splendid unimportance of the hunk of clay that he figures, why not waste a little time figuring out if Wells Jaha is for real or if this is just some undergrad’s idea of a hilarious prank. Besides, he’s pretty sure if he spends one more minute translating Marcus Cornelius’s store records he’ll lose his mind. 

**To: Bragg, Roma**  
**CC: Wells, Jaha**  
Subject: RE: Inquiry on Teaching Position

_Hello,_

_Thank you for your inquiry. I would like to know more about the position. I’m available Tuesdays and Thursdays all day, and any time after 4pm Monday, Wednesday, and Friday._

_Best,  
B. Blake _

Bellamy looks over it a couple times before hitting send. Barely a minute after he turns away from his computer, a ping rings out in his small office indicating an incoming email.

 **From: Bragg, Roma**  
**CC: Wells, Jaha**  
Subject: RE: Inquiry on Teaching Position

_Dr. Blake,_

_Mr. Jaha will be in Charlottesville, Virginia this Thursday. Please confirm your availability at 2:00pm. He can meet you at your office, if that is most convenient. Please see the attached job description._

_Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns._

_Thank you,  
Roma Bragg_

“Well, shit, that was fast,” Bellamy murmurs. He opens the email and taps the attachment. 

**CLASSICS TUTOR**

_Description  
Tutor will instruct student on subjects pertaining to the study of Classical civilizations, including but not limited to: Greek and Roman History, Greek and Roman Mythology, Latin, and Classical Literature._

_Tutor will spend ten hours a week in instruction with student. Tutor will spend twenty hours a week planning student’s education, evaluating student’s written work, and preparing materials for education. Tutor will spend a minimum of ten hours a week conducting research on matters of personal interest._

_Tutor will provide instruction year-round, traveling with student on any personal or diplomatic trips._

_Benefits_  
Salary: $120,000.00/year  
Housing provided in student’s residence. Travel expenses paid for by student’s family. Full medical and dental healthcare coverage. 20 vacation days per year. 14 sick days per year. 4 days of personal leave per year. 

_Requirements_  
Doctoral degree in Classical Studies  
Teaching experience  
Clean criminal record  
Signed confidentiality agreement 

“Shit,” Bellamy murmurs again. “This has got to be a scam.” 

He decides to keep it to himself for the time being. It still all seems a little too good to be true, but he is curious about meeting this Wells Jaha and finding out if this is for real. 

\---

Neither Echo nor Miller ask about it before Thursday, so Bellamy gets to stress and wonder about it all on his own. 

When Thursday finally arrives, Bellamy is a ball of nervous energy which is annoying because he feels like he really shouldn’t care as much as he does. There’s also a big part of him that is still expecting a shitty undergrad to show up at 2pm. It isn’t until 1:50pm that Bellamy realizes he probably should have looked up a little more information about Arkadia, but by that point he doesn’t have time for more than a cursory Wikipedia search which really doesn’t tell him much. 

Right on time at 2pm there is a knock at his door. Bellamy quickly shuts his laptop and throws on the suit jacket he brought. He pauses before opening the door, steeling himself for whoever was on the other side. 

When he pulls it open, the door reveals a kind looking man in his late twenties. Wells Jaha is in an expensive looking suit, but smiling kindly at him in a way Bellamy didn’t expect from the “counsel” of a rich, foreign diplomat. 

“Dr. Blake?” 

“Please, call me Bellamy.” 

Wells smiles even wider and sticks out his hand. “Well, Bellamy, it is nice to finally meet you. I’m Wells Jaha.” 

Bellamy shakes the other man’s hand before ushering Wells into his office. He had attempted to clean it that morning, but books and artifacts and papers are still strewn about. “I apologize for the, well,” Bellamy simply gestures about. 

Wells laughs as he takes his seat. “No need to apologize, Bellamy. You are a busy academic, the chaos just proves that.” 

Bellamy smiles sheepishly. “I suppose. What brings you to Charlottesville?”

“I thought that was obvious, I’m here because of you. You’re interested in the tutor position; I’m here to conduct an interview.”

“Oh,” is all Bellamy can muster to reply. He had assumed Wells was in town on unrelated business – after all flying all the way from Arkadia seemed like a bit of an extreme reaction to an email expressing vague interest in a position. “I have to admit I thought this was more of an informational interview than an interview interview.” 

Wells smiles again. “No need to worry, Bellamy. You’ll find I’m very easy going. I’ve already read the majority of your written work as well as your students' online reviews, and spoken with past advisors. I’m confident in your abilities to teach and your knowledge of the ancient world.”

Bellamy gives a nervous chuckle. _He had seen his papers? Spoken with his advisors? What the hell is this?_

“I’m not quite sure what to say,” Bellamy stammers, still taken aback by Wells’ admission. 

“That’s quite alright, I’m sure you would like to know more about the position.” He reaches down to his briefcase, opens it, and pulls out a single piece of paper. “I’d be happy to answer any questions. Of course, you’ll have to sign this first.” Wells slides the paper across Bellamy’s desk. It’s a confidentiality agreement. 

“I’m sure you understand,” Wells says. “All information is private and must remain so – I counsel a very, very well-known and influential diplomat. Naturally, should you accept the position we will have to conduct a full background check before booking your ticket to Arkadia. We’ve already done the preliminary research – all that would be required is speaking with some people who know you.” He waves his hand nonchalantly. “It’s nothing to worry about really, just protocol. You know how these things are.” 

“I’m not sure I do,” Bellamy mutters as he signs the non-disclosure agreement. “To be quite frank, Mr. Jaha—” 

“Please, if I’m calling you Bellamy you must call me Wells.”

“Wells – I’ve never been approached with anything like this before. This is all quite new to me. I honestly thought it was a joke or a scam at first.”

Wells laughs as he collects the signed agreement, “I was worried you would think that. I do realize it is a bit out of the blue. Now that this is taken care of,” he says, gesturing to the paper, “what do you want to know about the position?” 

“Am I shooting myself in the foot if I ask why me?” 

“Not at all! That’s a perfectly reasonable question. I liked your writing, you have a good track record for likeability, you are young, which I think my client’s child will respond better to and which makes me think you would be better suited to the flexible lifestyle this position entails. You work for and attended prestigious universities, have no past scandals I’m aware of, and are clearly an expert in Classical studies. Besides, you are American which means my client won’t be showing favoritism to any of our country’s many universities and scholars.”

Bellamy nods, still not totally convinced by Wells’ litany of reasons. “And the kid I’d be tutoring? Can you tell me anything about them?” 

“She’s twelve years old and absolutely wonderful. She does have a bit of a rebellious side but is a sweet kid – and she’s very interested in Classics. Her mother wants her to learn the basics of ancient history, culture, and literature – but the desire to learn Latin is all from your potential student.” 

“I suppose you aren’t going to tell me who exactly it is,” Bellamy half states half asks with a wry smile. 

Wells chuckles. “No, I’m afraid not. You won’t find that out until you meet them. Again, protocol and all that.” 

“As to the benefits—”

“As the description states, the salary is 120,000 American dollars a year. You will be invited to live in the residence if you wish free of charge, but are certainly welcome to find your own accommodations if you prefer. When the family travels, you will travel will them, free of charge of course. All medical and dental care is fully provided for and your leave – well I must admit I don’t remember the exact amont of days but it should be listed.” 

Bellamy swallows hard. “You’re serious?” 

“Yes.” 

Letting out an overwhelmed scoff, Bellamy runs his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, this is all just a little… well I don’t even know how to describe it.” 

Wells smiles kindly. “Too good to be true?” 

“Exactly.” 

The other man shrugs. “It is a pretty great job, but I’ll be honest with you it isn’t all great. This is a very high-profile family. You’ll be in the public spotlight to a degree, there will be a lot of travel, lots of decorum and formalities, you’ll have to of course move to Arkadia, and nearly everything you do will be sealed under a confidentiality agreement. You’ll also be under high pressure to deliver results.”

Bellamy nods, “Of course.” His mind is racing. He’d be in the public eye? Decorum and formalities? Whose kid was he going to be teaching? He clears his throat. “Do you have any questions for me?” 

“Yes, actually,” Wells replies, leaning down to his briefcase once more and pulling out a folder. “My client sent me with a list of questions.” 

Suddenly nervous, Bellamy runs his hand through his curls again. “Have you worked with children before?” Wells asks. 

“I haven’t taught anyone younger than 18, no, but I did practically raise my sister. Our mother died when Octavia was 12 and I was 18. I got full custody.” 

Wells nods, writing something on the paper in his hand. “Do you know much about Arkadia?” 

Bellamy laughs nervously, “To be honest, I know very little. I know it’s a small kingdom on the Mediterranean, near France. I know wine is a big industry there. I know it’s unique for still having a fairly powerful monarch.” 

Wells nods again. “And do you know much about the monarch?” 

Thinking for a moment, Bellamy tries to recall what Miller had told him in the bar. Something about the king? “Well, I know the king died fairly recently but again, in all honestly, I don’t know much at all about the royal family. I did read that the monarch still had executive power though there is a parliament. I’m sorry I don’t know more.” 

Wells smiles kindly. “That’s no problem. It’s not at all important to the position – and I promise you that isn’t sarcasm. Are you married, Bellamy?” 

“No.”

“Are you attached to anyone?” 

Echo comes to mind. But then again, Bellamy isn’t sure what he and Echo are. “I’m sorry, I don’t see how that is relevant.” 

“Well, you’ll be moving to another country and will be signing a non-disclosure agreement. That can make a relationship difficult. I’d hate for you to accept the position only to resign shortly after. Of course, if you are in a long-term relationship I could discuss with my client the possibility of that person also living in the residence. It won’t be as much of an issue if you decide to find your own accommodation but as for the traveling I can’t –”

“There’s nobody that serious.” 

Wells nods and makes notes on his paper. “I suppose my final question is – are you interested in the job?” 

“Is that an offer?” 

“I’d call it a pre-offer. I’ll contact you in the next couple of days after speaking to my client and offering my recommendations.” 

“In that case, I’m interested, but I’m sure you can understand I’ll need a little time to think it over.” 

With a nod and smile, Wells begins to collect his things and stands. “Thank you for your time, Bellamy.” 

Jolting to his feet a little too fast Bellamy nods back. “You as well, thank you for the opportunity.” 

“Of course, you have my email address, here is my phone number,” Wells replies, placing a business card on the desk. “I’ll be in touch.” 

As soon as the Arkadian leaves, Bellamy slumps in his chair. “Holy shit,” he says, the curse echoing in the empty office. 

\---

“I can’t believe you are even asking me,” Miller says at the bar that night. “Of course you should accept.” 

“I haven’t even been offered it yet,” Bellamy says, taking another drink of beer. 

“Bullshit, Bellamy, the guy traveled here just to speak with you. Shit, I picked the wrong profession. Who knew?” 

“Who fuckin’ knew?” Bellamy echoes. “I still can’t believe it. Things like this never happen to me.”

“You practically won the lottery.” 

Bellamy taps the bar, still full of nervous energy. “You really think I should do it?” He asks, voice low and serious. Miller picks up on his tone and takes a moment to examine his friend’s face. 

“Why would you say no? What’s making you hesitate?” 

Bellamy scoffs. “Are you kidding? It would mean moving to another country, leaving you and Echo and Octavia– ”

“You haven’t spoken to Octavia in six months, I thought Echo was casual, and Bryan and I would love an excuse to go to Arkadia.” 

Considerably more somber at the thought of his tattered relationship with his sister, Bellamy shrugs. “I just got this position, it would look shitty to leave right at the beginning of the semester.”

Miller nods, “Yes, but you are making $35,000, man. You could be making four times that.” 

“It isn’t all about money.” 

“Is translating ancient shopping lists really that intriguing?” 

“That’s a low blow.”

Miller shrugs and orders another round. “Look, Bellamy, I think you should do it. An opportunity like this isn’t going to come around again. It’s a once in a lifetime kind of thing.”

Bellamy takes a long moment to just stare at his beer. He sighs. “It just feels weird.” He looks up at Miller. “You know where we are from, two dirty kids from the gutter. You know how I feel about people who are excessively rich, especially when that money is just from having an old family that exploited people – most likely people of color. Do I really want to be working for someone who’s reaping the benefits of that system?” 

“That’s one way you can look at it,” Miller replies, passing Bellamy another beer. “The way I see it, you beat the system. Plus, you have the chance to influence a kid from that background to have more respect for those with less.”

Bellamy shrugs. “Maybe.” 

“Look man, you do what you think is best. But I think you’re crazy to even be debating this.” 

They sit in silence for a moment. Bellamy mulls over his choice, staring blankly at the game on the tv. Miller suddenly breaks the silence with a chuckle. 

“What?” Bellamy asks, a smile on his lips. 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already broken that non-disclosure agreement.” 

Bellamy’s eyes widen and Millers barks out a laugh. 

\--- 

Echo is considerably less enthusiastic when he tells her about it over dinner the next night. 

“So that’s it? You are just leaving the country?” 

“I mean, I haven’t heard from him so I might not even have a real offer, but yeah, that’s probably what will happen.” 

Echo clenches her jaw. “You just started here, Bellamy. You shouldn’t just quit on something you committed to.”

“Commit is a bit strong of a word, Echo. I’m an adjunct. They didn’t even have me sign a contact. I’m teaching an introductory class that any other professor could take on.” 

“So, you are just going to shirk your responsibilities onto someone else? I guess I was right about you at the start.” 

Bellamy rolls his eyes but doesn’t respond. After all, she’s right. It would be a shitty move to just up and leave the university. To up and leave her now that they are starting to figure out their weird relationship. 

The rest of dinner is tense, as is sex afterwards. Still, Echo sleeps over instead of collecting her clothes and leaving. Bellamy barely sleeps that night. Listening to her soft breathes, he contemplates the choice before him. Accepting the offer (that still didn’t exist yet) meant embracing a lot of the very things Bellamy had always resented. It meant leaving the life he had worked so hard for behind. 

But at the same time, it meant a fresh start and a fresh adventure. It was the kind of job people dreamed about. 

Rolling out of bed, Bellamy quietly slips out of the bedroom and makes his way onto his small balcony. He stares up at the stars high in the night sky above Virginia. An old memory suddenly comes back to him from years ago. Back when he was about to enter grad school and spent the summer being reckless and stupid and falling hopelessly in love with a stranger. He had looked up at the sky like this in a far-off place and wondered if he was making the right choices then as well. “Déjà vu,” he mutters.

Leaning on the balcony, he pulls out his phone and googles Arkadia. He spends the next hour reading about the country’s history, its recent news, its culture. He reads all about the death of the late king – killed in a terrible car accident while on a diplomatic trip in Sweden. He reads about the new queen, the young daughter of the late king who seems to be popular in not just her country but much of Europe. The reception on his balcony is notorious terrible, so the pictures of the country and the monarchs, living and dead, won’t load, but he can picture it. A small, wealthy, historic, Mediterranean kingdom. It'd be nice. 

He closes out of safari and taps on contacts, his thumb hovering over Octavia’s name. If only he could talk to her, Bellamy thinks, then it would be clearer. She’d have good, straight forward advice. She’d be thrilled for him or she would think it was the dumbest idea in the world. Either way – she’d give him the truth. With a sigh, he slips his phone back in pocket. Calling her isn’t an option though, not this time. 

There is buzz in his pocket. Bellamy pulls the phone back out and his stomach drops when he reads the notification. 

**GMAIL**  
**Jaha, Wells**  
Offer of Employment  
_Hello Bellamy, Sorry for the delay. Attached is an offer letter for the position of Classics Tutor. Please let me know your decision at your earliest convenience._

The glass door slides open and Echo steps out in just his sweatshirt and her panties. Her arms are around her chest, like she’s hugging herself. Eyes wary and cold, she sighs. “You’re doing it, aren’t you?” 

Bellamy clenches his jaw and looks up at the stars again. “I’d be crazy not to, right?” 

She leans against the railing next to him. “What about us?” 

“Nothing changes if you don’t want it to. We’ve been more than fuck buddies for a while.” 

“Never thought I’d be the type to do long distance.” 

“We don’t have to,” he says softly. “If you don’t want to.” 

Echo eyes him closely. “I want to. When do you leave?” 

“I have no idea. Soon, probably.” 

She nods. “For the record, I think you’re stupid for doing this.” 

Bellamy chuckles, not unkindly. “Maybe. I’ll probably regret it. But I can’t pass it up.” 

\---

He leaves three weeks later with a one-way ticket to Polis, Arkadia. He still has no idea who exactly he is working for and the fact he is moving to the capitol doesn’t exactly clear it up. 

Both Echo and Miller take him to the airport in Richmond. Just before he boards he types out a simple email to Octavia, just to let her know in case she cares. With a hug from Miller and a kiss from Echo he’s off. 

\---

A black SUV picks him up at the airport. The windows are heavily tinted but Bellamy still has the chance to see much of the capitol city on the drive. It’s a perfect blend of Italy and France with sloping hills and ancient buildings and stunning views of the Mediterranean. It’s still all so surreal that this is his new home. Four weeks ago, he didn’t know the first thing about Arkadia, now here he is in Polis preparing to start a new life. He wishes Octavia could see it. He wishes Echo could as well. 

Bellamy checks his phone as the car begins to climb up a hill in the middle of the city.

 **MESSAGE** 7:49pm  
Echo  
_Have you landed? What’s it like?_

 **MESSAGE** 7:26pm  
Asshole (Miller)  
_Check your luggage and make sure Bryan didn’t stow away._

Nothing from Octavia. 

“Sir,” the driver says, turning to address him. It’s only then that Bellamy realizes they’ve stopped. 

“This is it?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Bellamy fights back the urge to tell the man not to address him as “sir.” Instead he smiles and opens his door before the driver can get out and do it for him. When he looks up at the towering building before him, he catches his breath. 

It is not a house. He wouldn’t quite call it a mansion either. It is more than that. _A palace_ , his mind whispers. Beautiful semi-tropical gardens surround the massive stone building. He can hear the bubbling of fountains and the entire place is lit with beautiful little yellow lights in ornate glass holders. There are balconies and carved window frames and it’s something straight out of a book or movie. 

Bellamy’s shaken out of his shock by the arrival of three men in uniforms who begin to unload his luggage. When he tries to help, he is ushered away by them. 

“It’s quite alright, Bellamy, they can get that for you.” 

Bellamy turns around to see Wells striding down the gravel drive. “Wells?” 

“Tell me,” the other man says, beaming, “what do you think of your new home?” 

“It’s…” Bellamy tries to find words that would adequately describe it without also revealing how excessive it all felt to a kid who had grown up in a crumbling apartment in the shitty part of town. 

“Quite something, huh?” 

Bellamy nods. “That it is.” 

“I’m so glad you accepted the offer. I think that you and Madi will get along great. She’s very excited for your arrival.” 

“Madi?”

Wells smirks. “That’s the name of your young pupil. Now that you are here you finally get all the real details.” 

Bellamy turns back to the palace as the uniformed men begin to carry his luggage towards the building. “I can’t begin to imagine growing up here.” 

“Yeah, it is quite a life. This isn’t even the primary residence. Their majesties usually reside at Polaris Castle.” Wells begins to walk toward the palace, ignoring or entirely missing Bellamy’s stunned face at the implication of _their majesties_. “It is farther out in the country which Clarke prefers for Madi. She doesn’t want her to be too much in the spotlight, not when she is so young. With the opening of Parliament, however, the queen’s presence is necessary in Polis.”

Bellamy follows behind Wells in stunned silence. The queen. He is tutoring the queen’s daughter. The princess. _Holy shit_. 

Wells continues to babble on about the habits of the queen and her daughter as they enter the elaborate door of the palace and cross into a marble hall filled with flowers and paintings and furniture worth more than Bellamy has to his name. It is overwhelming to say the least and he begins to seriously question his decision to come. 

Suddenly, a painting catches his eye. It’s of a young woman sitting by a window, a dog at her feet. She’s holding a paint brush in her hand and smiling softly at the viewer. It’s a beautiful painting, but it’s the woman’s face that stops Bellamy in his tracks. She’s so familiar, so painfully familiar, and yet – there is no way. It makes no sense that there would be a portrait of Abigail Green in the royal palace of Polis, Arkadia. 

“Wells!” 

A child’s voice cuts through Bellamy’s stunned thoughts, dragging his eyes away from the painting to a 12-year-old girl with dark hair and a bright smile peering curiously at him from behind Wells. 

Swallowing his shock, Bellamy smiles at her. She reminds him of Octavia at that age. “Hello,” he begins, before realizing he has no idea how to address her given her station. He’s saved from the moment by another voice – one that cuts him to his core and make his heart tighten with what he thought was long dead hope. 

“Madi, please try to have some self-control, you are twelve now. Hello, you must be the new –”

The woman just behind Madi and Wells stops suddenly as her eyes connect with his. 

She still has those big blonde curls, though her hair is much shorter than it is in her portrait on the wall and much, much shorter than it was six years ago when it would blow from the open window’s wind in his truck. She’s not wearing the tank top and jeans he’s used to, and there’s a pearl necklace around her neck that looks out of place to him. 

It feels like the room is spinning. It feels like the universe has played a sick joke on him. Bellamy swallows tightly. 

“Bellamy Blake, may I introduce you to her majesty, Queen Clarke Valentia Elizabetta Griffin and her daughter, Madi Elaine Valle Griffin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Next chapter will have backstory.
> 
> Yes, there is Becho, no, it will not last. We need angst people - that's why there is Becho currently.


End file.
